Albac: Awakening
by alishaheen
Summary: Unmotivated, sleep-deprived, 20-year-old Albac Liston has yet to accept his place as a gifted warlock, one who appears once every century. Due to his uncertain past and lineage, Albac seeks to discover who, or what, he truly is. Yet, he is a bit hesitant to uncover his past, as some dark, hidden truths may come to light.
1. Summary

Copyright © 2016 by Ali Shaheen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 **Summary**

Unmotivated, sleep-deprived, 20-year-old Albac Liston has yet to accept his place as a gifted warlock, one who appears once every century. Due to his uncertain past and lineage, Albac seeks to discover who, or what, he truly is. Yet, he is a bit hesitant to uncover his past, as some dark, hidden truths may come to light. However, with the impending darkness which threatens his world, he must come face to face with his origins if he wishes to protect Symphlora Wesley, the woman he loves. With limited time, he must leave behind his life as a normal human and embrace his new life, while learning to control his powers before it's too late.


	2. Prologue

Copyright © 2016 by Ali Shaheen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 **Prologue**

It was a cold midwinter's eve, with pearly white snowflakes slowly falling from the sky. Thinking back, I never would have imagined that my life would completely change within a year, and in such a tragic way. Never had I thought that I would be taking the life of someone who meant the world to me.

In my left hand, I held the limp body of a woman, which was quickly becoming rigid and cold. In my right hand, I held the sword responsible for killing her, which was still protruding through the woman's chest and out of her back. The sword's tip faced the eerie crescent-shaped moon in the sky, causing the burgundy colored blood to flow down onto the sword's golden handle. The air was heavily laced with a strangely familiar scent of metallic blood, which dripped down onto my hand.

I pulled the sword from the woman's chest before releasing her body, letting her fall onto the grass which is blanketed by snow. As I stood up, a pool of blood began to amass where the woman lay. Without looking back, I began to walk forward, leaving behind the body of the woman. The body slowly began to be covered by snow as the wind picked up, marking the beginning of a blizzard. The sword, whose tip was now facing down, dripped a steady trail of blood onto the snow as I headed towards the archaic castle.


	3. Chapter 1 - Chance Encounter

Copyright © 2016 by Ali Shaheen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 **Chapter 1: Chance Encounter**

Standing at the bus stop, I eagerly awaited to go home, tired from a full day of university classes. It was Friday January 31st, the end of an uneventful month. The weather was a bit chilly, about 40 degrees in Boston, with a prediction of snow. Glancing up, I saw dense gray clouds, warning of the impending snow. Winter is my favorite month since it has snow, which blankets and eventually hides everything underneath the angelic white snow. I shivered slightly as a cold breeze passed by. I wasn't adequately prepared for the weather and had neglected to check the weather before coming to campus.

I was wearing a casual outfit which consisted of black jeans, worn out tennis shoes, and a t-shirt which was covered by a smoky gray sweater. There's also an old watch, an accessory piece more than anything else, fastened to my left wrist. The rather plain looking gold watch had brown leather straps, which made for a nice contrast. There was a rather curious symbol engraved into the back of the watch, one which makes no sense to me or anyone else I know. This is the one and only memento left to me from my parents, and my only ties to them. The watch itself did not work and seemed to be stuck on 2:21 for some odd reason.

Hearing a screech, I glanced to my left, seeing my usual bus pulling up to the stop sign exactly at 8 pm. The blue and white bus, clearly a bit worn out from braving harsh weather for years, let out one final screech as it came to a stop in front of me. Shivering a bit more, I waited for the door to open and then slowly climbed up the steps. I was greeted with warmth as I gave a courteous nod to Mason. Mason was the friendly older gentleman who had operated the bus for as long as I can remember, and everyone loved him as they would love their own family. He had a full head of gray hair, and always wore a full suit. Today, he was sporting a black suit.  
"Good evening, Mason," I said as I reached forward and put coins into the machine which collected the bus fare.

"Good evening to you too. You really should get a new jacket for cold nights like today," Mason said to me, giving a slightly disapproving look at my choice of outfit.

I let out a slight groan, merely nodding since Mason was correct. I scanned the bus, spotting a free seat towards the end. I slowly made my way towards the back of the bus and sat down, setting my backpack next to me. The bus's metal door clanked shut, and we began to move. I sat with my right shoulder pressed up against the window, glancing outside. Moments later, I fell asleep, exhausted from the long day.

I woke up to a loud sound, which seemed like a bang. The bus was braking hard, causing my head to hit the seat in front of me.

"Son of a..," I mumbled, catching myself. I used to curse a lot, but had slowly began to outgrow it. Well, at least for a while.

Thankfully, the seats were composed of soft cloth material, which cushioned my head. I blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy. Mason had turned the bus off, which cut off the heat. I looked out of the window, and saw the silhouette of a woman. I didn't get a good look and the sounds in the bus distracted me, returning my focus to where I was. Around me, I heard the other passengers using colorful language. I edged towards the center aisle, getting a better view of those who were talking.

"What the hell, man?!" yelled an irate middle aged man, dressed in a navy-blue business suit. The suit's coat had a fresh large coffee stain, no doubt caused when the bus had to brake hard.

"Calm down, everything is fine," said Mason in a hard tone.

Other passengers were mumbling and muttering amongst themselves, of which I could hear bits.  
"Can't believe it, yet another one," said an elderly woman who was shaking her head.

"What was that, the fifth one this week?" asked a young woman near me who was wearing pink nursing gear.

"Who cares, good riddance to that damn trash," replied the business man who was still visibly pissed off over his ruined suit.

"What's going on?" I asked the nurse.

"It's another accident in front of us, driver drove their car head on into a truck coming from the opposite way," she replied, pointing out of her window.

I looked out through her window, seeing what remained of a car. The car was completely smashed in from the front to the back, looking as if something had propelled the car towards the truck with immense force.

"That's what he gets for driving like a moron," snickered the business man.

I was unsure of the business man's name, but in my mind his name was Douchebag since he delighted in another's misery.

"I think I'm going to be sick from seeing blood" said a woman sitting near the front.

Curious, I looked closer at the car, noticing that the cracked windows of the car contained red specks of blood. I shifted back to my seat, feeling a bit queasy myself. I leaned back against my seat and remembered that the news mentioned that there has been an increase in "freak incidents" lately. These incidents, which had increased a lot in the past few weeks, were not limited to just car crashes. There were numerous missing individuals, each who had gone missing during night time. To make matters even worse, dead bodies had also gone missing from morgues. I hoped that this was truly a random accident, and not something more sinister going on.

"Alright, please be seated," said Mason as he cranked up the bus.

"We will be moving now."

The bus began moving past the awful accident site, which was now surrounded by multiple cop cars and an ambulance. The bus made frequent stops, and my stop was the very last one. I stood up as the bus came to a halt in front of the apartment complex I resided in, slinging my backpack onto my right shoulder. I walked up the center aisle, pausing by Mason's driver's seat.

"Have a good one, Mason," I said.

"Don't party too hard, Al," said Mason with light smile.

Al, the one and only nickname I had. This nickname was given to me by Mason about 3 years ago, when I first entered university and began taking this bus. The nickname formed a personal connection between us and I looked up to Mason as if he was my own father.

"You know I am not into partying like that Mason," I said with a chuckle.

"Oh? But isn't your birthday tomorrow?" asked Mason.

Ah, February 1st, my birthday. For as long as I could remember, I hadn't really cared much for my birthday. This is probably because I never had a chance to experience what a true birthday celebration with parents felt like. Since my parents had passed away when I was 6 years old, I had grown up in a shelter for children. I also have a sister, Serein Liston, who is 2 years younger than me, but I haven't seen her since I was 18.

"Yes, it is tomorrow Mason," I replied, nodding.

"I've a little present for you," said Mason as he reached into his tailored suit coat pocket and pulled out a small pouch. He loosened the drawstrings and reached inside with his hand. He pulled out a thin chain, which had a ring hanging from it.

"Take it," said Mason as I looked at him stupidly.

"I can't possibly accept this, Mason. It looks expensive and it seems to be important to you," I say, shaking my head. To me, it seemed to be something like a family heirloom, one that must have been passed down several generations. I couldn't possibly accept such a thing.

"I insist, think of it as a protection charm and wear it," Mason instructed with an assertive tone as he placed the chain into my right palm. Nodding, I simply pulled the chain up to head and placed it around my neck, the silver ring dangling in the center. Surprisingly enough, the chain did not feel cold once it was set again my skin.

"Thank you, Mason. You've always treated me as your own child and you're like a father to me," I confessed, a bit embarrassed.

"Are you trying to call me old, son?" Mason asked in a joking manner as he laughed loudly.

I shook my head, patting his right shoulder. Mason winced slightly, his brows furrowed. I immediately pulled my hand back.

"Sorry, Mason. I didn't realize your shoulder was injured," I apologized.

"Don't worry about it, Al. It's just an old scar from a while back," replied Mason.

"A scar?" I asked, since this was the first I had heard of it.

"Yes, but it was from years ago, and it's not something I'm fond of speaking about," he replied.

"Alright, sorry for asking. Thank you for the gift, Mason," I said as I turned to face the bus door, walking down the steps.

"Hey, Al? Try to be careful and don't wonder around at night, with all that's been going on around here recently," said Mason, with concern on his face.

I turned and nodded at him before disembarking from the bus. As my feet touched the torn sidewalk, I heard the bus door clang shut before the bus drove away into the night. I looked up at the gloomy, old apartment building which stood before me. My apartment was located on the top floor of the 10-story building. There was an elevator, but it rarely worked and seemed like it could break any day now. I went straight for the stairs, not wanting to try the elevator. I've always prided myself on my stamina, built up from years of running. The gray steps on the stairs had some cracks, which were filled with cheap plaster. I took two steps at a time, and opened the door to the 10th floor. The poorly lit hallway contained only a handful of apartment units, with my apartment being at the far end of the hall. I pulled out my keys and unlocked the door, pushing it open. It creaked slightly as I stepped in and shut the door behind me and locked it. I placed my keys on the key holder on the wall.

The apartment consisted of a room that served as both a bedroom and living room, and another small space which was the kitchen. The kitchen was fairly empty, with mostly disposable plates and cups instead of real silverware. There was no need for silverware since I lived alone. I tossed my backpack and phone onto my bed before walking to the kitchen. I was feeling hungry and my stomach rumbled a bit as I thought about food. I opened the small cabinet where I stored my instant ramen, disappointed to find it completely empty now.  
"Just my luck, I still haven't had a chance to buy groceries this week," I muttered as I checked the fridge as well, only finding half a loaf of bread and some butter. I closed the fridge and checked my wallet, which contained only had a $5 bill. Not quite enough for ordering a pizza.

I checked the time, it was only 9:30 pm, not too late. I walked towards the door, picking up my keys along the way. Money was tight for me, and the only solution was to walk a couple of blocks away to the convenience store. I shut the door behind me, locking it before proceeding to go back downstairs and onto the sidewalk. Glancing up, I saw some snowflakes beginning to fall.

"Crap, I better hurry before this becomes a storm" I thought to myself as I walked quickly towards the store. Within 10 minutes I entered the small neighborhood convenience store and waved to old man Lyrad, the owner and sole operator of the store. I headed towards the center aisle in the store, which contained the ramen noodles I always bought. I grabbed a handful of the small ramen bowls, and went to the counter, placing them near the register. I rang the tiny bell at the register and waited. Within moments, Lyrad came out from the back.

"How are ya, Albac?" asked Lyrad.

"Hungry," I replied, as my stomach rumbled lightly.

"Bet ya are," chuckled Lyrad as he scanned the items.  
"Total will be $3.50."

I handed him the $5-dollar bill and collected my change. He put the small bowls into a bag and threw in a chocolate bar as well.

"It's on the house since you always stop by," said Lyrad before I could protest. I thanked him and left the store. Once outside, I saw that the weather had gotten a bit worse, which snow falling relatively heavily now. I opened the chocolate bar and ate it, savoring the creamy texture. I tossed the wrapper into a nearby trash bin, my stomach no longer rumbling as I headed home.

There was an eerie silence as I walked, and I hadn't seen any car or person for a while. The street lights were dim and spaced far apart since the city was too cheap to replace them and add more. Up ahead of me, I saw what looked like a person who was standing near a street light. As I got closer, I saw that this individual was fully covered with a black cloak. I slowed down and stopped underneath the street light, a bit wary. I saw that this person, or thing, had now turned their gaze upon me. They reminded me of mannequins with how stiff they seemed. It dawned on me that this person could be related to the recent occurrences of people going missing.

By now, my sweater and jeans were wet from the snow. I was cold and stood there unsure of what to do. The person, who I now identified as a man, used his left hand to pull apart his cloak, revealing a wobbly looking bronze handle. With his right hand, he grasped the handle, pulling out a sword from the scabbard on his left side. The sword had a dull glow from the light, rust covering parts of it. There was a thick chain fastened onto the bottom of the sword's handle, dangling onto the floor. I took a step back, confused and alarmed. He raised his sword, pointing it to the sky. It seemed as if this guy was delusional, heavy into cosplay, or maybe both.

"Symphora Meiote," said the man, words which made no sense to me. From his sword, there emitted a purple aura, which quickly expanded to engulf the area surrounding him and I.

"Are you Albac Liston?" asked the man as he began to move towards me.

My hand slid into my pocket, reaching for my phone.

"Shit."

I had left my phone back at my apartment since I was in a hurry.

He dragged his sword on the sidewalk, leaving a trail of marks. He swung his sword through the middle of a street light, cutting it cleanly in half, the light collapsing onto the ground. Rust or not, the sword was real. By now, adrenaline had started pumping through my system. I turned the other way and began to run away, hearing feet pounding on the sidewalk behind me as the guy also ran behind me. I looked back, and saw that both of his hands were now holding the sword which now faced me. I turned left at the corner, the gap between us closing quickly. I bolted down the sidewalk before I darted into a small alleyway. I stopped as I reached a brick wall which was about 10 meters high. A dead end.

I turned to look at the entrance of the alleyway, hoping that the raging lunatic didn't see that I had ducked into the alleyway. The sound of footsteps got louder until the guy reached the alleyway. To my horror, he peered in and noticed me, heading my way. The chain clanged against the uneven ground, as the guy made his way towards me. Looking around, I couldn't see any way to escape. The guy showed no signs of heavy breathing and on closer look he had two redlines running down the sides of his head.

"What do you want?" I asked him. He had a blank look on his face, probably high or drunk I thought.

He responded with a slash towards me as I ducked underneath his arms, racing towards the entrance of the alleyway. The sword had made contact with my left shoulder, tearing into the sweater and flesh, leaving a gash. Warm blood began to flow down my arm. I kept running, ignoring the pain, close to exiting the alleyway now. Suddenly, I felt something quickly wrapping around my right ankle, causing me to fall onto the hard ground. Laying on the ground, I looked down and saw the chain which extended from his sword. The chain seemed to be moving on its own. It was wrapped around my leg and wouldn't budge.

"Accept your fate and die for my master, the necromancer," said the guy as he walked towards me.

"Necromancer? I don't know anybody like that you psycho," I said, thoroughly confused and angry.

"A person who is about to die doesn't need to know," he replied.

As far as I could tell, I had never given anyone a reason to hate me, let alone kill me. I felt a warm sensation against my chest, which became increasingly hot. The ring I'd received from Mason became illuminated and released a blinding light, which was accompanied by a strange ringing in my ears. The guy froze in his tracks and the chain around my ankle become loose and fell off.

Time seemed to stand still, and I had a better look at the guy. His face showed some signs of decay, and he had small bleak red eyes. He looked anything but human. I took this chance to scramble onto my feet and ran out of the alleyway. By now, the snow had completely stopped. The ring no longer released any light, but was burning hot against my clothing neck. Unfortunately, I didn't have long to rest as the guy was no longer subdued. Exhausted from running and the blood loss, I glanced at the alleyway from a distance, seeing him emerge from it.  
"Stand back if you don't want the puppet to kill you," commanded the voice of a woman who I couldn't see.

"Another small fry. You there," said the woman, walking into the streetlight as she pointed at me.

"Don't come close unless you want to die," She warned.

I looked at the source of the voice, a strikingly beautiful young woman. She had a slender, rather delicate looking frame. Her milky white skin complimented her flowing silver hair, which ran slightly past her shoulders. Her light blue eyes, filled with confidence, mesmerized me, leaving me momentarily lost in her eyes. She had a well-crafted oval face, perfected by angels. My eyes slowly trailed down her form, noticing that she was wearing a small, light blue dress which matched her pretty eyes. She had an ample bosom and narrow waist, with slight curves in the perfect areas. She was simply perfect, a person who couldn't be real.

The sound of the chain brought be back to reality as the guy walked towards me.

"Not so fast," said the woman as she stepped in front of me. Standing this close, I could see that she was slightly shorter than me and had a sweet fragrance coming from her, drawing me in. In her hands, she held a polished sword which had a silver handle.

By this point I refused to believe my current situation. Surely, I'm imagining all this! I pinched myself hard, hoping to wake up from this nightmare. Instead I felt the pain from the pinch, assuring me that I was awake.

"Wyntiera dichmond," said the woman, more words which made no sense to me. As she said those words, the air suddenly became frigid and her sword slowly became covered with a layer of ice. It became harder for me to breath and move and I stood still.

"Weak. Maybe you do deserve to die," said the woman as she smirked at me.

Die? I was too young to die, and I hadn't even accomplished anything yet.

"I have nothing to do with you damned freaks," I said.

"Freaks?" her tone became icy cold as she turned to face me, kneeing me in the stomach. I buckled from the pain, astonished at her strength as I staggered backwards.

"You're lucky that my goal is to make sure you're safe" she said with a sigh, pointing her sword at the guy.

"Wyntiera taijaod" she said, icicles now forming near her sword which floated in the air.

She pointed her sword towards the guy, after which the icicles shot towards him and pierced through his body as he fell back, an icicle impaling him into the wall. She walked towards him, piercing his heard with her sword. The guy yelled in agony, his body breaking down and turning into dust.

"Your time will come, and you will be a part of his collection as well," he said to the woman with a sneer before completely disappearing, his surrounding purple aura vanishing as well.

"We will see about that," she said, her sword disappearing as the air returned to normal.

By now, I had lost a significant amount of blood and could no longer keep my eyes opened. I collapsed as I faced the backlash of the adrenaline rush, falling into a deep slumber.


	4. Chapter 2 - The Elders

Copyright © 2016 by Ali Shaheen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 **Chapter 2: The Elders**

There was a black altar with unique properties in the center of an ancient, spacious room. The altar was built from obsidian, a volcanic rock. The altar had been infused with magic from each generation of Elders, which dated back several millennia. This allowed the altar to be used as a medium through which high-grade spells could be amplified. One such example was the protective barrier which was maintained around the building. The altar was called Obsidiaz, named after the material used to craft it.

Surrounding the altar was an intricate white magic circle drawn onto the floor. The circle contained four smaller circles inscribed within, one for each Elder, through which magic was funneled into the altar. Elders used this space to carry out their cooperative rituals, such as the protective barrier. Each corner of the square-shaped room contained a torch, which was not currently lit. The room was a place where the four Elders would gather here to discuss important matters, mostly using it to address issues in times of chaos. Aside from Elders and their leader, no one was permitted to enter the room. Each Elder had a ring which granted them access to the room, otherwise they would not be able to enter. The only exception to this rule was if a person was a descendant of the old, ancient bloodline of Myfius.

The Myfius were once known as the strongest warlocks, beings which were capable of subduing and controlling powerful demons at will. Not only could they summon demons, but they were also fluid in using magic as well. At their peak, each member of the Myfius easily surpassed the current Elders. However, that bloodline was thought to have died out a long time ago when the warlocks had simply vanished.

There was a small balcony with rails, which looked over the room. In it, there was a majestic throne which faced the room. The throne was composed of a golden frame, the seat cushioned by red silk. The armrests had ruby and sapphire jewels embedded into the sides in an alternating pattern.

There were many secrets held within this room. The room contained a bookshelf, which held old scrolls and books. Some of these contained history, while others taught high-grade spells or combat techniques. Some were considered highly dangerous and were shackled shut, not intended to be discovered. There was a door leading to another room, but it had not been opened in centuries and no one knew what it contained, not even the Elders. There emitted an ominous aura from the room, possibly related to black magic. It was said that the room was used by the Myfius at one point. Next to the door stood an old, brown grandfather clock.

The Elders were individuals who had reached the peak of their craft and were deemed to be the strongest within Myrei. Elders were usually of noble lineage, but there had been some exceptions over the centuries. A person was considered of noble lineage if they came from a family which was well established in Myrei and had great power or influence.

Myrei was a society of magic which had existed for several millennia, and was initially created to protect Obsidiaz. Myrei was disguised as a modern-day business building which functioned as an office space in the heart of Boston. It provided a safe-haven for individuals who had the potential to surpass normal humans and wished to learn how to use their powers. It also served to fight against Dysta during times of calamity. Dysta was the dark society which delved into black magic and used ruthless methods to obtain what they wanted. They initially held no power and posed no threat, but during the past millennia they had increased their reach to all parts of the world and now rivalled or surpassed Myrei. Like Myrei, they had individuals with immense power. There were a lot of people who were a part of either organization and they blended in with normal humans.

The clock chimed as the hour changed to 11 pm. Four robed figures materialized, each appearing from one corner of the room. The four torches lit up, casting dim light around the room, as the four individuals walked towards the center of the room. They stood near the altar, facing the balcony.

"It seems as if the time has come," said the first Elder, pulling his robe off. The tall, ape-looking man sported athletic gear. His dark brown hair was slicked back. He was Zavius Mistle, a man who had risen up against all the odds to become an Elder. Zavius was an ordinary human with no trace of a noble lineage, and was the youngest Elder. In fact, he was just as ordinary as a regular person in most aspects. What distinguished him was his brute strength, which greatly transcended mortal strength. By learning just a bit of magic, he could face anyone, usually overpowering individuals physically. His weapon of choice was a giant, wide sword slung across his back. Within society, he worked as construction supervisor.

"The necromancer has gotten out of hand and needs to be dealt with soon," said the second Elder, also pulling her robe off. The woman wore a pink skirt with a white blouse, clearly confident in herself and her beauty. Her brunette hair flowed down her back, reaching halfway down her back. She was as pretty as a flower, easily capable of charming any man. Ceyma Grodus, who came from a noble lineage. Her looks and physique were second to none, but she was just as deadly. While she lacked in physical strength, she specialized in using both offensive and defensive magic. She incorporated poison into her toolkit as well, enhancing it with magic. She worked as the secretary for the building used by Myrei.

"He's getting bolder every day, and sacrificing more people," said the third Elder as she tugged off her robe. She wore jeans with an oversized shirt, sporting a red blazer over her shirt. Her dark red hair was a bit shorter than Ceyma's, stopping a bit past her shoulders. Tyrin Bolien, who was also from a noble lineage. Perched on her right shoulder was a small red bird. She specialized in using animals to fight, amplifying them through magic. She worked as a pet tamer within the local zoo.

"We don't have enough people to take him on," said the fourth elder who had opted to keep his hood on. He specialized in in combat just like the first Elder, but he was also highly adept at using magic. Of the four Elders, he was undoubtedly the strongest and had been an Elder for the longest span of time. He was granted the title of Great Elder, which formally distinguished him as the second strongest individual within Myrei.. On his left hip, there was a polished leather scabbard which contained a sword forged from mynthil. Mynthil was titanium which had been infused with high grade magic. This material could be used to forge countless weapons such as swords, daggers, and chains. Weapons forged from this material were thought to be incapable of breaking. However, it took someone as skilled as an Elder to be able to create the material. It was extremely rare that anyone possessed this material and skill, and currently only the fourth Elder wielded a weapon made from mynthil.

The necromancer was a bespectacled man who specialized in necromancy. He appeared out of nowhere a few years ago, and was a part of Dysta. He was highly skilled, on par with Elders. Necromancy is part of black magic, and it was thought that the teaching of it had long since disappeared. Necromancy involves communicating with the dead and being able to raise the dead as well, controlling them at will. Due to its twisted nature of controlling a body against its will, just like a puppet, it was a forbidden magic which was thought to have been lost centuries ago.

To make matters worse, the necromancer had made an advancement in necromancy. He was now able to kill individuals and immediately bind their souls forcibly to their body. This allowed the body to function fluidly, as if it was still alive. It also preserved the unique abilities and magic that the individuals may have possessed during their lifetime. They were forced to do as the necromancer wished. The necromancer had been hunting those with unique abilities and killing them to make a personal army. However, this wasn't the extent of the necromancer's pervasive acts. Through research and experimentation, he found that eliminating those who were important to his puppets would cause the souls agony and despair. This would cause an influx in magic in the puppets, empowering them. If that wasn't bad enough, the necromancer would command the puppets to kill those who were close to them, which agonized the souls much more, thus strengthening them further.

"Oh, is the Great Elder afraid of him?" asked Zavius, smirking some. His right hand reached back, gripping the handle of his sword. "Maybe it's time for you to give up the title of Great Elder to me."  
"Stop, Zavius," said Ceyma, clearly annoyed. "Just because you're an Elder, you shouldn't forget your place. Especially since you aren't of noble lineage."

"What are you trying to say?" asked Zavius, his voice cold. His face was a bit red, angry at her comment. He drew his sword from his back, pointing it towards her. "Say that again."

"Oh, are you deaf now? I guess a ruffian like you is too stupid to understand what I said," said Ceyma, pulling a dagger in each hand from her sleeves. The daggers were coated with a green liquid, a poisonous substance.

"You've said too much, Ceyma," said Zavius as he lunged towards her.

Ceyma placed her daggers together, forming an X to block the sword as Zavius moved towards her.

"Zygo Oris" mumbled the forth Elder as he stepped between both, a yellow light emitting from his form. His right hand held his sword, deflecting Zavius's sword. His left hand held his scabbard, blocking Ceyma's daggers. "This isn't a place for your egos."

"Don't interfere, old man," snarled Zavius as he pulled his sword back.

"That is enough," boomed a voice, radiating from the balcony. Marz Litefell, who was referred to as The King, had reached the pinnacle of modern day power and wisdom a couple of centuries ago. He was a man of mystery and it was unclear how old he was. No one had seen his face, since it remained covered with the hood of his robe. His most distinguishing feature, which could be seen, was his long, white beard which trailed to his chest. A heavy, suffocating pressure was felt in the now silent room as the lights flickered briefly. The Elders, aside from the Great Elder, were visibly shaken.

"If either of you wish to continue, then you'll answer to me," said Marz, his voice piercing through the silence. He was clearly not amused at the situation.

Both Zavius and Ceyma hastily put away their weapons, not wanting to draw any more attention from him.

"Now, onto the matter at hand," began Marz. "As you all noticed earlier, there was a surge of magic activity here in Boston. At the same time, that room over there also resonated," he said, pointing to the mysterious room. "The surge of magic power happened slightly after one of the necromancer's puppets had attempted to kill a boy who was unfortunate enough to encounter him. Fortunately for us, the Great Elder had already sent Semphlora Wesley to guard the boy."

"Why should we care about a random boy dying?" asked Zavius, clearly not interested.

"You were also a normal boy," said Ceyma.

"Tomorrow marks the boy's 21st birthday and as you can feel, the room beyond the locked door resonated with him," continued Marz, silencing them again. "That room is our only link to the Myfius family," said Marz, gazing at the ominous room. "We must try to bring him to our side, if we want to stand a chance against Dysta."

"Who is the boy that you are talking about?" asked Tyrin.

"Albac Liston, brother of Serein Liston," replied Marz.

There was a sharp intake of air from all the Elders as they shook their heads in disbelief.  
"Surely you jest. We had never heard of her having a relative. You don't really expect someone who may have the cursed blood of the Myfius to be a part of us" said Ceyma with distaste.

"They were born from the same father, but different mothers," said Marz.

"I'm with Ceyma. Serein has proved to be competent and a great help, but how can you be so sure that he may be related to the Myfius?" asked Tyrin, nodding at Ceyma.

"The strong flux of magic was similar to the one which the Myfius family was capable of, and the reaction from the room is proof," said Marz.

"But he hasn't had any training and hasn't even awakened yet," said the Great Elder, shaking his head. "He hasn't even received an arisad yet."

Arisad was the small clear stone which individuals used to channel their magic through. It was required for most, unless they'd either fused with the stone or grown powerful enough that they could control their magic without the aid of the stone. There were various different qualities of arisad, with the better ones costing quite a bit. The could be placed into weapons as well, as long as the weapon had a socket in which the stone could be placed.

"I've penned a letter that will explain a bit of our world," said Marz.

"And what if he refuses?" asked the Great Elder.

"Send him the letter and stone, it will be up to him what he wants to do. We won't force him. And don't tell Serein. I don't want her to influence him in his choice," he said, tossing an envelope onto the altar.

"I will personally deliver the envelope to his place," said the Great Elder as he reached onto the alter and picked up the envelope, placing it in a pocket within his robes.

"All of you should prepare to fight soon, danger is coming much sooner than we thought," said The King, concluding the meeting.


	5. Chapter 3 - The Letter

Copyright © 2016 by Ali Shaheen

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

 **Chapter 3: The Letter**

I woke up with a start, my left hand clenched as it reached towards the ceiling. I blinked a bit before finally realizing that I was alone in my apartment. My breathing was a bit fast and my face was drenched with cold sweat as I recalled the nightmare I had just experienced. It was rather vivid and daunting, and felt strangely real. I shook my head to clear my thoughts of the nightmare and rubbed my eyes. I glanced over to the opposite side of the room, which had a small desk. On the light brown desk, made from wood, there was an alarm clock, which showed the current time to be just a bit past noon. I sat up with a jolt and looked over to my right, where a small window provided me with a look to the outside. The snow from yesterday was mostly melted and had left behind puddles. Water steadily dripped from the roof of the building down onto the sidewalk. The skies were clear and the sun was shining brilliantly, a sharp contrast from yesterday. I removed the bedsheets off myself as I let out a slight yawn. Looking down, I saw I was still wearing my clothes from yesterday.

"Odd," I said out loud as I stood up, thinking I must have been extremely exhausted after classes yesterday. I walked to my small set of old mahogany drawers, which had 3 drawers and stood next to my desk. I opened the top drawer and rummaged through it until I found my tracksuit and a change of boxers. Every weekend I would go for a light jog around the neighborhood, which was about 3 miles long for a roundtrip. This morning I opted to take a shower first, to clean myself of the cold sweat. I made my way over to the small bathroom which was attached to the bedroom and pushed the door forward. The door let out a slight creak as it opened and I stepped in, leaving the old wooden door open behind me.

I reached for the light switch, flipping it on. I covered my eyes with my right hand as the bathroom lit up with bright white light, giving my eyes a few moments to get adjusted. I placed my change of clothes on the sink counter before I turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature, waiting for the water to be warm. I unstrapped my watch and pulled off the chain on my neck, placing them both on a small towel next to the sink. I pulled off my sweater and hung it on a hook on the wall. I peeled off the slightly wet white t-shirt which clung to my skin, followed by the rest of my clothing. I stepped into the shower, letting the warm water run over me. Images from the nightmare flashed through my mind as I showered. The image that appeared the most was of a beautiful, but cocky, woman. I winced slightly, clutching my stomach as I recalled being kneed in the nightmare. For some reason, I just couldn't seem to forget about that nightmare, which was unusual since I rarely ever remembered a dream or nightmare.

I finished and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a white towel to dry myself off. The mirror above the sink was slightly obscured from the steam caused by the warm shower. I used my right palm to clear the mirror and looked at my reflection. I saw an average height guy, about 5 feet and 7 inches, staring back at me with dark brown eyes. There was a mess of slightly damp hair, which was short and naturally black. There weren't really any distinguishing features aside from a small 4-pack, built up from running and doing sit-ups during my free time. There were no signs of any bruises or injuries anywhere on my left shoulder which made me think that the nightmare could not be real. I finished drying myself off, ending with my hair before placing the towel on a horizontal gray colored rod next to the sink. I put on the change of clothes which consisted of boxers and the tracksuit. I picked up the chain and put it on my neck.

I heard the steady sound of a watch and glanced at the side of the sink. The sound was coming from the old watch which hadn't worked for as long as I could remember. The time, which was previously stuck on 2:21 had finally began to move and it was accurately reflecting the current time of 1:00 pm. A sudden realization hit me that the watch had begun to work on the first day of the second month, which marked my 21st birthday. Surely that was just a mere coincidence. I picked up the watch and carried it out of the bathroom, placing it next to the alarm clock on the desk. I checked my phone and saw that the battery was less than 10%. I sighed a bit as I plugged it into a charger and left it on my desk as well.

I would normally skip breakfast on the weekends, which helped save a bit of money. I saw the ramen I purchased last night laying on the kitchen counter. I grabbed my keys and opened my apartment door, locking it behind me. I placed the keys in my tracksuit pants and zipped the pocket, then headed down the stairs. The weather, which was supposed to be cold today, felt normal to me. I reached the bottom of the stairs and exited the apartment complex. There were plenty of people walking about on the sidewalks and several cars driving by, a sharp contrast from the previous night. I heard the normal bustle of the busy city, which included a melody of honks, cussing, and friendly banter. I noticed that there seemed to be a unique color aura surrounding the outline of each person, which made me blink to see if my eyes were playing tricks on me. The auras remained even after blinking, perhaps a result of the strange nightmare playing tricks on my mind. I ignored it as I stretched a bit, loosening up my muscles. I began to run around the neighborhood, enjoying the pleasant warm feeling of the sun.

The Great Elder and Ceyma, who were currently not visible to anyone, watched the male from the skies by using levitation and invisibility. Levitation was basic magic, but utilizing it to fly required tremendous skill and control. Invisibility was an inherently complex skill which required in-depth knowledge, and only the Elders knew how to execute that magic since it was taught through a book which was housed in the same room as Obsidiaz.

"Is that him?" asked Ceyma, pointing to the male which the Great Elder was looking at. She had insisted on tagging along with the Great Elder, regardless of his protests.

"Yes, that is Albac Miston," replied the Great Elder, still unsure of her intent.

"I don't know what reasons you and Marz have to be favoring him, but we should get rid of him while we still can," said Ceyma, her right hand wrapped around a dagger in her robes. "That's why you wanted to come see him personally, right?"

"Patience, Ceyma. We have no reason to harm the boy and he hasn't done anything wrong. We only came here to deliver the letter," replied the Great Elder, placing a hand on her shoulder. "You don't want to upset Marz and go against what he said. You should know the punishment for harming innocent people."

"Ah, whatever," she said, thinking about the punishment for harming innocent people as she released her grip on the handle. The punishment would involve a ritual where Obsidiaz was used to restrain individuals as they were stripped of any magic power they had, leaving them to be a normal human. There was also a death penalty, which was reserved only for extreme cases and was rarely used.

"We will talk to him once he comes back to his apartment, and don't interfere in the conversation," he warned her.

Ceyma merely shrugged as the two watched, waiting for the male to finish his exercise routine.

I finished my run around the neighborhood and came to a stop in front of my apartment complex. Sweat ran down my face as I caught my breath, having sprinted the last little bit of the way. The workout had been pleasant, and seemed easier than usual. My body felt light and energetic, rather than feeling exhausted like I normally would. I made my way up the stairs to my apartment and pulled my keys out, unlocking the door. I walked in and flipped on the switch, turning the lights on. I turned around to push the door shut, but the door wouldn't shut fully and was met with resistance. I looked down, seeing a brown shoe preventing the door from shutting. A hand was also sticking in through the gap. I moved towards the door and tried to forcibly shut it, but to no avail.

"Pardon the intrusion," said a voice as the hand pushed the door forward, opening it fully. In the doorway stood two robed figures. The taller figure, who had spoken, was a guy and the other figure was seemed to be a woman, based on her outline. I darted into the kitchen and opened a drawer, pulling out a dull kitchen knife with my right hand and pointing it towards the odd people.

"Looks like he wants to play," said a woman's voice as the smaller figure pulled out a dagger from the confines of her robes. The dagger looked sharp and had an indent in the middle of the blade, which held a green liquid. The liquid dripped down, somewhat burning through the floor. I had no idea what the liquid was, and had no intention of finding out.

"Behave," said the guy as he extended his arm in front of the woman, blocking her. "We are not here to harm him, Ceyma," he said, providing me with the name of the woman. Some more liquid dripped from her dagger, leaving dark burn marks.

This odd situation seemed like my nightmare from last night, which made me question if I was really awake. I pinched my left arm a bit, wincing as I felt a bit of pain. This was not a dream, which made me think of how to get out of this situation.

"We are just here to talk," said the robed guy as he took a step forward.

"Stay away," I said, my hand shaking slightly as it gripped the handle with both hands, steadying the shaking.

The woman referred to as Ceyma took this chance to jolt forward past the guy and pushed me down onto the ground with inhuman strength as she pinned me. I struggled to move as I released the knife, letting it fall onto the ground next to me.

"So weak and pitiful," said the woman as she brought the dagger near me. "We should carve him up," she said as she brought the dagger near the left side of my face, letting the liquid fall onto the ground.

"Stop at once, Ceyma," yelled the guy, striding towards us.

"Relax, I haven't done anything," she replied.

I could smell the faint smell of mild burning from the floor. By now, I was angrier than anything else. My right wrist moved as my hand reached for the knife and touched the blade, the blade cutting slightly into my hand. I felt for the handle and gripped it hard. I felt warm blood coursing through my body rapidly, as if something was changing inside me. A drop of blood fell from my hand down onto the floor, seeping into the floor. The room lit up with a bright red flash as a blood red circle appeared on the ground underneath me. The same color radiated as a glow from my body as well, which seared into the woman's robes. I felt a surge of strength and managed to move my right arm, slashing at the woman's left arm. The robe tore, exposing her arm as she recoiled away. I stood up, steadying myself. My body felt warm, but I was strangely calm now, my anger controlled.

"What is happening with him?" asked Ceyma as she backed up to the Great Elder.

"The restriction which was placed upon on him as a child was to be undone when he turns 21, but it seems like it has been significantly weakened and his sheer will broke the restriction," replied the Great Elder.

"What restriction and how do you and Marz know about this boy? Just what is he?" asked Ceyma.

"Now is not the time to be discussing such trivial matters, Ceyma," said the Great Elder.

"Don't think you two can keep secrets forever from everyone else," Ceyma said.

"What do you two want from me?" I asked them, interrupting their brief conversation.

"We are just here to talk," replied the Great Elder.

"Talk by attacking me?" I asked, pointing the knife, which was coated in a layer of red light, at the woman.

"Ceyma did that on her own, she doesn't know any better," the Great Elder replied.

"I'm sure you're confused and angry, but we are here to explain things to you."  
I lowered the knife, but held onto it for now. The anger had subsided a bit, as I studied the two individuals calmly.

"If you're here to talk, then why are you concealing who you are?" I asked, looking at the Great Elder.

"Ah, it will probably help if I show who I am," he replied as his hands went up to the hold and grasped onto it, pulling it back and exposing his head.

I shook my head as I saw the familiar face, refusing to believe it.

"Mason," I said, my hand releasing the knife and letting it fall onto the floor.

The red circle underneath me was a deep shade of red by now, and the ground began to rumble slightly.  
"Albac, you need to close that immediately!" yelled Mason, his right index finger pointing to the circle underneath me.

A small, oddly-shaped, red hand appeared out of the circle. Whatever it was, it seemed to be pulling itself up from the ground. Seconds later, a small triangular head popped out from the ground.

"How do I stop this?" I asked as I stepped away from the circle, wary of whatever was coming from the circle.

"Relax your mind and think of something soothing," Mason replied.

"Wouldn't it be faster to kill him, the caster, and have the flow of magic stopped?" asked Ceyma.

"Enough of your nonsense for now," replied Mason in a cold voice.

"Let him concentrate."

I closed my eyes and thought back to the last time I had seen my sister, though it was a bit vague now. Her warm smile always brightened my day and filled me with hope. She was the last bit of my family, and I treasured her. Slowly, the mental picture became clearer in my mind and helped me relax. The strange energy I felt earlier began to dissipate, the red glow slowly fading away from the circle. I opened my eyes and glanced at the ground. After a bit, the circle had completely vanished from the ground, along with whatever was trying to come through it.

"What was that?" I asked as I looked up, seeing that Mason had a sword in his right hand which was angled towards where the circle had been.

"That was a demon, which is something you can summon," he replied as he placed the sword back in it's sheath.

"I know this is a lot to take in, especially since you didn't know about the existence of magic."

I nodded, still confused about what had just transpired.

"Ceyma and I are here to give you a letter from the leader of Myrei, which is the magic society," said Mason.

"We don't know what is written in it, but it's probably an invitation to join us," he said as he slid a hand into his robes and pulled out a black envelope.

"You can accept or decline after you read it," he said as he walked towards me and extended his right hand which held the letter.

I took the envelope and peered down at it. The front of the envelope had my name written in gold lettering, which shined slightly.

"Sorry, but we must leave now," said Mason as he placed his left hand on Ceyma's right shoulder, steering her towards the door.

"Wait, there's so much I need to ask you," I said, moving towards them.

"Now's not the time, Albac. You must first read the letter and choose the road you want to walk," said Mason as he and Ceyma stepped out and vanished.

I ran to the door and glanced out, seeing no sign of them. I looked around for a bit before giving up and heading back into my apartment, locking the door behind me. I still had the envelope in my hand and tossed it aside on my bed for the moment, still needing to take a shower after my jog. I took a relatively quick shower and came out, finding a comfortable pair of pajamas to wear. I picked up the envelope and turned it, looking at the back. The envelope was sealed shut with golden wax. The wax had an odd texture, with a rather curious, but familiar, symbol stamped into it. I went to my desk and picked up my watch and compared the two symbols, which were identical. I carried the envelope with me and slid into bed, a bit mentally exhausted. How could something from my father contain the same symbol as the envelope? Had my parents been a part of this magic society? Too many thoughts and questions clouded my mind and I opened the envelope and pulled out an old-fashioned parchment, beginning to read the letter.


End file.
